


Criminal

by by_veidt



Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Clothed Sex, Exam Table Sex, French Kissing, Frotting, Kiss Him While He's Coming, Kissing, Lube, M/M, Mildly Dubious Consent, Orgasm, Restraints, Semi-Public Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-15
Updated: 2017-03-16
Packaged: 2018-03-01 14:37:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,129
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2776721
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/by_veidt/pseuds/by_veidt
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kirk and Khan need a way to escape, and they find one. Complete, but I'll add more probably.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Heat

The last guard hit the ground as Khan took in a breath, his gaze settling on Kirk. “Where is your engineer?” The words almost missed Kirk, his brain still working on the barely gone fight. 

He looked around, loudly whispering, “Scotty!”

“We don’t have time for this,” Khan growled.

“I know, but that might be where he went.”

“What? Ah, the engine. Could he buy us more time?” Khan’s expression was flat, concealing the growing irritation at the near flippant sentiment of this crew, but if he could pretend that keeping the ship inoperable was ideal, he may encounter a better opportunity.

“I don’t know, but if anyone could it would be Scotty.”

Khan breathed an agitated huff from his nose, quickly pushing his way past Kirk. He needs the ship running, not permanently disabled, and he isn't confident that isn't Scotty’s short-sighted mission. Change of plan then; get to the engine, passively subdue the engineer, get to the deck, kill Marcus, commandeer the ship. Simple.

Kirk was quick behind him, miserably trying to decipher Khan’s change of motivation, his suspicion growing strong; he needed to get to Scotty first. Khan stopped at the engine room door, turning back to Kirk as the door began to open. “We should have run into someone by now.” He turned back towards the door, dodging a punch and throwing the man’s head into the doorframe. He stunned the other two engineers at a distance, prowling towards the engine. “Lock that door,” Khan barked, Kirk pausing. “They’ll have heard us.”

“Are you concerned?” Kirk almost teased, the gravity of Khan’s ability finally starting to sink in deep.

“I’m busy.” He stopped at the engine controls, the panel illuminating him slightly in the ominous red glow. “He’s obviously not here,” Khan pensed as he worked at the panel, trying to override the timed reset. He could hear the first round of infantry collecting beyond the door.

Kirk jogged over to him, looking back once. “We've got company.”

“I know.”

“So, go do your superhuman destroy everything...thing.”

“They’re armed.”

“So were the Klingons.”

Khan paused for an exercise in patience. “I don’t think you understand.” He turned towards Kirk. “We have weapons that would be better suited for throwing at them; they have what could be likened to hand-held canons capable of blasting through this hull. The have armor fit for surviving an explosive assault and the have bodies.”

“Then we’ll hide,” Kirk blurted indignantly.

Khan’s expression flattened more. “In a radioactive tomb.” He shot Kirk a look of hubris. “Well, I’ll survive.” A loud bang on the door drew their attention.

“Then you think of something better!” Kirk shouted, pacing off a bit, hands fingering through his hair.

“I have.” He stepped over to the fallen engineers, stunning them once more. “Put this shirt on.” He gestured with the phaser to the body at his feet, walking over to the other, working the shirt off of the limp body.

Kirk hesitated, but complied when Khan never looked up at him, pulling the shirt over his head. As Kirk’s face cleared the neckline, he saw Khan dragging the body around to the other side of the engine. Kirk let go of a burdened breath and threw the engineer around his shoulders, rushing him to the other side and dropping him with the other. He caught up with Khan at the control panel. “Alright, so we pretend to be engineers? Because I don’t know how to do any of this.”

“Yes, but you know how to do this,” Khan turned, grabbing Kirk into a kiss.

Jim hesitated before shoving Khan back, blood racing. “What the hell are you doing?”

“We need surprise, and they will recognize me if not you as well. We need to shock them and give them a reason to drop their guard. I assumed your reputation would make you more amicable.”

“What is my reputation!” For a moment he was more concerned with this common insight of him everyone but he was aware of, but another echoing bang on the far side of the room brought his focus back. He mulled it over for a few more seconds and hoped he could later reason himself into thinking this was ever a good idea. "Fine," he said shortly.

"But I call the shots."

"Oh no, I don't 'catch' for anyone."

"Well, you'll have to get used to it quick."

"I don't think you understand who you're dealing with."

"That's what makes it fun." Kirk pushed him against the control panel, pressing his lips and the rest of his body flush against Khan's. Somewhere in his mind was the notion that this was all ultimately under Khan's control, but Jim was going to try his damnedest to make this augment flinch, at the very least.

In another life Khan might have admired Jim's determination, but his mission was still the same, recreational life-saving plans aside. Jim nipped at Khan's nek, a twinge in his hardening cock surprising him. The captain felt Khan's body tightened slightly, grinning to himself as he sucked at the skin below Khan's jaw; he's still human after all. Jim's hands had crept up under the other's shirt, digits prowling over the grooves along Khan's abdomen and up his chest.

Khan swallowed, trying to disguise any apprehensiveness that was surfacing. It had been hundreds of years and he thought he would have better control over himself. His fingers fidgeted with Kirk's trousers, pushing his shirt up in the process.

"Desperate?" Kirk teased, starting on Khan's pants as well just after giving his ass a playful squeeze.

"Obviously. We're about to be gunned down and you're treating this like a romp in the hay." He yanked the fly open, staring down Jim as he leaned back.

"I was trying to be nice, since it's been a few hundred years, and it shows."

"We don't have tim-" Jim interrupted him with a determined grab of the shirt and threw him to the ground, pulling the tight fabric around Khan's hips down enough to expose his aching frustration. Khan swallowed, a flush spilling up his neck. 

Jim kneeled between his legs. "Better?" He didn't give Khan a chance to respond, taking him into his mouth, a modulated gasp rasping through Khan's nose, but Jim could feel the tell of his body, smiling to himself as his tongue played over supple flesh. Jim had a tendency to dodge virgins, but this was nearly as good and didn't really count. A resistant moan inflated Jim's ego, hands pressed to Khan's hips. Noise barely audible behind the door drew both of their attentions, Jim sitting back.

"They're going to blow the door in." Khan cleared his throat.

"We'd better get to it then," Kirk grinned, sliding Khan's pants down farther, met with equal resistance.

"I don't think you were paying attention."

"Don't be so difficult." Kirk reached for Khan's hands, but they were already on Jim's shirt, pulling him up and over his lap. Jim sat back against Khan's thighs with a huff.

"Now who's being difficult," Khan drolled, freeing Kirk's eager cock, giving him an enticing tease of pressure. Khan nudged Jim forward more, keeping him steady agsint his thigh as he wrapped a hand around their members, grinding up against him.

Jim rolled his hips forward in response, hands gripping Khan's thighs as he leaned back to brace himself. Khan felt his heart thrum slightly at the sight of Kirk, swallowing as he kept a steady rhythm, pressing harder against the pliant body above him. Jim gave an encouraging moan, fingers pressing against the hard flesh beneath them. "Lean forward," Khan stated, Kirk obliging. Khan pulled him down by his shirt, holding him there as their mouths crushed together, the door beyond them blasting open. 

Jim's escalated anxiety was evident, but Khan held him down and he complied. Shouting was qucikly replaced with irritation and certain confusion, Khan rolling with Jim onto his back. Khan stayed face down in Kirk's hospitable mouth, a tense exchange of glances making it difficult for either to breathe. Khan pressed his hips against Kirk's ass, Jim playing up a throaty moan as a guard charged over, insisting on something, the words lost on both of them.

The tip of a photon rifle barely nudged Khan's shoulder before he was up, rifle now in hand, the guard skidding across the room. He braced it against his hip, hiding what could be shame with his other hand as he downed the other three. Kirk had just stayed down, watching him, admiring him, taking satisfaction in their brief encounter.

Khan had already shoved himself back into his now fastened pants, pulling his shirt back over his head.. "Let's go," he commanded, prowling toward the door as if nothing even happened. Kirk leaped to his feet, tense and now frustrated, adjusting himself and grabbing his shirt. 

"No 'goodbye kiss'?" he sneered, chasing after Khan.

"A frot wasn't enough?" Khan rebutted, blasting down another couple of guards. The subtext was heavy, but Kirk's brain had not fully come back online; only the grief of his aching desire registering any feedback.


	2. Combustion

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh my god, an update. It's only been years. Finished though, so I hope anyone still reading enjoys.

Khan swallowed, waiting, listening; he rolled his wrists slightly, feeling the near immobilizing tension on them. He mulled a few considerations over, musing on the optimism of sedating him, but also on the pragmatic precautions of the crew on this thought. What a clever medic they have. He does have his limits and there is doubt that he could break the probably steel braces around his wrists and neck, which he felt as he shifted.

He couldn't hear any other bodies in the room, opening his eyes and staring up at the metallic ceiling, focusing on the blue haze. He turned his head to see the sedative reservoir had run dry, lips pursing slightly.

"I insisted," a familiar voice spoke lowly from beyond his view near his feet.

"You're quiet," he smiled to himself--bested twice.

"That might be the first time anyone's said that to me."

Khan still couldn't see Jim sitting at the foot of the table but he didn't make an effort to change his perspective. His bonds unclasped and he let out a tired breath, hand coming up to massage the side of the his face. "Your Vulcan is impressive."

"Yeah." There was a long pause before Jim spoke again. "Your crew is alive--or as much as they can be."

Khan closed his eyes, brow furrowing as he fought the tightness in his chest. "And safe," Jim added. Khan let out a sign, relief slowing flooding him.

"Is that all you came to tell me?"

"I suppose."

Khan sat up, pushing himself down to the foot of the table, Jim maintaining his hunched over position on the stool as his gaze tracked Khan's movement. Khan sat up straight, finding Kirk's eyes. "Thank you, Captain."

Jim smiled, dropping his gaze back to the floor, bouncing his clasped hands before he stood, eyes prowling over Khan for a moment. "Feeling defeated in your victory, Captain?" Khan mused, the last word retaining some salacious venom. Jim chuckled slightly, shaking his head as he looked down and back up to Khan's piercing gaze. "Are you looking for reparations...satisfaction?"

"No. I have my reward; defeating you is trophy enough."

"But you didn't. One could argue that I saved you."

"It would only be one."

Khan almost smirked.

"Can we finish this?" Jim risked, heart speeding up. 

“Still striving to upkeep your untarnished record of conquest?" Khan teased.

Kirk's mouth sealed quickly over his for a moment. "Let's just say I'm ambitious."

Khan lips curled up against Kirk's, Jim leaning back with mild annoyance as Khan smiled at him. "This is the part where you become infatuated with me," Kirk smiled.

"You should use the interesting part of you then, not the annoying one," Khan suggested sardonically. Kirk frowned slightly. He had forgotten why this was a bad idea, but Khan was quick to remind him. "Well, Captain?.../Infatuate/ me," Khan tugged lightly at Kirk's waistband.

"Not one for foreplay, are we?" Kirk stepped forward to the edge of the table, groping at the form beneath the unforgiving fabric infront of him. Khan's chest tightened, eyes following Kirk's hand. "You're touchy this time." 

"I would argue that you are moreso than me," eyes darting up to Jim's.

Jim smirked. "I meant your responsiveness is better."

"I allow it to be." Khan growled. Kirk's lips pursed monetarily, pulling Khan forward by the shirt, nails raking at Khan's constrained hardness. Jim worked to free Khan again, hand delicately removing the hot flesh. and firmly pressing up against the underside causing another hitch in Khan's breath. Kirk stroked him gently, teeth and tongue hindered by the collar of the black shirt. 

Jim's palm flattened against the other's chest as he pushed him back against the table, wrist riding the shirt up. Jim lapped at the grooves of Khan's abdomen, digits slowly drawing up and down his hardening length. He paused, "Please, let me know if I'm boring you."

"Is it too soon?" Khan spurred, resisting the draw into deviant submission. They both knew the man was spiraling, but any attempt Khan could make to play the illusion of control benefited his ego.

Kirk bit into his victim, but only enough to chastise, a brief hiss the only response. He settled back on the stool and lathed his tongue up the length of Khan's waiting cock, a slight arch indicating Khan's waning resistance. Jim was soon to take him in, eager to chisel away at that stoic form; to heat him up enough to bend him to Jim's will. Khan's fingertips tightened against the sides of the table, a quiet moan breaking the tense stillness in the room. A hand settled in Jim's hair, flexing once as the tongue flicked at the base of the head. 

Lips drew slowly away from the now straining cock, the hand on the back of his head resisting his action. "Nng. Don't stop," Khan pleaded; it almost seemed sincere. A wicked curl overthrew Kirk's lips, parting again over the glistening flesh, a slight arch meeting him. Khan very hesitantly pushed up into the mouth over and over again, each showing more and more desperation, and Kirk could read every bit. The augment's mind flurried, desire and lust bleeding into every thought, each more and more irrational than the next. Had he forgotten what being human was like? Did he care? Had his life devolved into a life of subjugation under the tongue of James Tiberius Kirk? He knew they were going to put him back to sleep—maybe some new age indulgence would do him some good, if not solely for future applications. His fingers slid through the dirty blonde locks, a stifled moan relaxing him back into the table more, guard falling. 

Jim stole a glance up, watching the monster grow tame, wondering how this was going to play out. He knew he was playing with fire, Khan very capable and probably willing to kill him in an instant, but if that were the case, he could have easily killed him when they boarded Marcus' ship—but he did try to kill him afterwards. He pulled himself away from Khan with little resistance, standing to lean over him, gaze level as he settled a hand on the table on either side of the man. Khan's eyes followed him slowly, meeting Jim's as the captain loomed over him. “Are you going to be behave?”

“That all depends on you, captain.”

“Doesn't seem like it takes much,” Jim smirked, watching the disdain roll over Khan's expression—it was the small victories. 

“Would you like to see how I misbehave?” Khan quirked a brow, expression otherwise indiscernible.

“I'd rather show you how I like to,” he replied lowly, hips pressing his trapped and aching hardness against Khan, watching his body go tense. His hands slithered to Khan's, pulling them up and laying several gentle kisses on them before surreptitiously lowering them back into the restraints, the augment pulling against them as soon as his skin touched the steel, but the pressure plates had already sealed the rings around him. Khan forced a smile, eyes narrowing as his brain navigated around escape.

“What's the matter, captain? Are you doubting your abilities?”

“Just don't want to get too torn up when you'd otherwise be clawing my back,” he practically whispered against Khan's jaw, leaving a peck just under his ear, and the augment could actually feel the hot flush spill up his neck, indignance and irritation losing their voice. “It's actually a good look for you,” he grinned, stroking down one of his thighs, and Khan had to suppress the urge to headbutt the man, but Kirk had straightened himself by the time the opportunity manifested, leaving Khan quiet and watchful, gaze threatening, or as much as he could muster it to be with his wrists pinned near his head, blush high up his cheeks, shirt up, and cock out, waiting and still torturously hard. And Kirk had to pause to really take the image in as to never forget—he should have done this in the first place. He would have been a lot easier to handle, but that was a different time. “Nothing to say?”

Khan thought that over. He didn't have anything to say. He could knock Kirk out with a kick when he was close enough again, which he would be, but that wouldn't get him far. At least he'd get some kind of satisfaction out of the obvious direction this was going—more than knocking Kirk out? He mulled that over, watching Kirk approach with a bottle. He pushed one of Khan's thighs up, the other following at a sloped angle, tethered by the uniform—he supposed he had made his decision. Khan swallowed as the cold stream of lube trickled down his skin, fingertips prowling his flesh making him squirm very slightly, but enough for Jim to notice. Kirk pressed his middle finger past the tense but pliant ring of muscle, pressing against the swelling tissue in the augment, earning a tight gasp, body stringing taut and relaxing again. Khan closed his eyes as heat shot up his neck, spreading over his cheeks, surprised at how wonderful it felt, two fingers now working him looser, teasing his nervous system. “Oh, Captain...” came the deep tumble of words into the thick air, a swallow following as if he tried to choke back any more traitorous sounds. 

A smug satisfaction overthrew any doubts Kirk was having about this idea—if Khan was playing him he was doing a good enough job that Kirk frankly didn't care at this point, but the physiological changes he was so adept at pinpointing rarely lied; even Khan couldn't be that good. And this was exactly why Khan had sworn off sex entirely in his time—it was almost an Achilles heel, an unyielding distraction from logic and reason that burned him alive with just the slightest spark. And this was unprecedented. He had read about it, but all of the literature severely underplayed the power the sensation would hold over him. He was very unequipped for this battle, no weapons in his armament and no strategy. Another victory to Captain Kirk. He writhed at three fingers, lips parted for breath as he felt his skin begin to perspire under his uniform. His body became more accommodating, eager for a greater pleasure that it anticipated the starfleet officer to deliver, treachery abound as his mind made final bargains against this. 

Kirk withdrew his fingers, hurriedly shuffling his pants down far enough to free his aching cock without limiting him mobility. He looked up as he stroked himself, Khan's chest rising and falling faster than it had before, normally calculating and cruel eyes absently watching the ceiling, thin, cold circlets locking on to Kirk's as he leaned over the other, hesitating as he slid along the curve of the augment's ass. The callous diffidence that normally filled Khan's expression was near nonexistent, replaced with desperation that almost made the augment sick. “Do it,” he stated, the words barely his own, controlled by carnal impulse that could in no other way be quelled. And as much as Jim could see the loathing lurking behind Khan's desire, it was almost the best part. Watching him fall to pieces over something so normal to Kirk--watching him fall to pieces at all. This bioengineered man was still just a man, consumed by the most basic of instincts, and Kirk would be the ember that would burn his splendor and glory to the ground; truly one of his greatest conquests. 

Kirk gave one solid thrust into the man under him, watching his eyelids flutter, wrists jerked against their restraints, chest heaved with a quick breath and the curve of his spine as he pressed towards the sensation. And Kirk hated to admit it, but he was gorgeous—everything he did was with a lithe and dangerous grace, even under him now. How he tensed with each thrust, biting back as many indications of pure bliss he could that they both knew would break through eventually, how his half-lidded gaze, dazed from the sensation, still seemed to follow every move and thought Jim made, and how that sinewy muscle tightened and moved under that milky skin and even showed through the clinging fabric of the uniform. One particularly hard thrust finally produced a well earned noise that sounded like it should have had some indication of English, but whatever it was supposed to be was lost on them both. Khan swallowed again, almost choking out the word 'harder'. 

“What was that?” Jim grinned, slowing his pace just enough. 

“Harder,” Khan spoke with forced clarity, a strange feeling rising in him—embarrassment? 

Kirk's eyes flickered over him, watching the blush spill deeper into his complexion. “I'm sorry... I still didn't get that.”

Khan's eyes found Jim's with intimidating accuracy and force behind his expression, waned by a hard thrust, the officer lowering himself more, expression expectant and waiting. “Harder. Please. Captain.” Khan almost spat, jaw tight until several firm thrusts pulled a sultry moan from him.

“Was that so hard?” Kirk breathed, rhythm relentless in the augment as he gained a solid hold on Khan's hips. He quickly reached a hand around the side of the table, engaging the release before finding his grip again. 'Kill' flashed through Khan's mind for what must have been milliseconds between thrusts as soon as the steel bands opened, but that order was just as quickly rescinded, arms folding around Kirk's shoulders, fingers digging into the forgiving fabric. Kirk leaned back, bracing his knees against the table as he repositioned his hold to Khan's ass, the augment's knees crooked over his hips, or as best they could as Kirk pounded into the man, shirt finally succumbing to the pull of Khan's grip as it flayed open, a deep and resonant moan sending a shiver down Kirk as it spilled over his shoulder. Kirk's arm slid up and around Khan's waist as his other hand gripped the augment's precum slicked cock, stroking him in time with his thrusts. Jim winced as the other's nails bit into his skin, sealing his mouth over Khan's just before a hoarse cry followed, muffled against him as cum splashed between them while the augment shuddered out his orgasm. Kirk tongue prowled his mouth once more before he pushed him back to the table, pacing himself to climax. He came with a firm hand pressed to Khan's chest, the other on his hip, spilling deep inside him with a gloating satisfaction. 

Khan took several deep breaths, quickly regaining his senses, but not quickly enough to stop the needle that pierced his neck, syringe emptied before he could backhand Kirk away from him. He placed his hand over the spot on his neck, stumbling off of the table, only to meet the floor two steps later. Their eyes met across the room and as much as he tried to muster disdain and venom, he could only concede, closing his eyes as the sedative set in.

\-------

McCoy begrudgingly surrendered a cooling pack to Jim, frowning at the stupid grin the captain couldn't hide. “I hope it was worth it,” he borderline scolded.

Kirk took in a deep and amorous breath through his nose, letting out a satisfied sigh. “Definitely. And I'd do it all again if I got the chance.” He put the pack to his cheek where a deep bruise was forming.

“You might as well try slapping a collar on a Breen,” the doctor scoffed. 

Maybe a collar wasn't such a bad idea.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm attempting writing shorter stories; I hope this is satisfactory. I am working on a second chapter that I actually prefer.


End file.
